


Blackfrost Moments

by MistressOfMalplaquet



Series: Natasha of Asgard [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Blackfrost - Freeform, Complete, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Loki - Freeform, Love, Sif - Freeform, Thor - Freeform, and comfort, because I just can't stay away, just a little though, natasha romanov - Freeform, really fluffy fluff, short shorts while I write more blackfrost, steve rogers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2017-12-31 17:24:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 9,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressOfMalplaquet/pseuds/MistressOfMalplaquet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fluff from Loki's Castle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On Assignment

**On Assignment**

* * *

 

"But he is obviously guilty!" Loki protested, pointing to the large senator. The man's face was smug as he followed his team of lawyers out of the courtroom.

Natasha sighed and picked up her briefcase. "I'm afraid there's nothing we can do about it. Sometimes the justice system just doesn't work. Hey, want to take me dancing later?"

"Yes of course, darling," Loki said vaguely.

It wasn't until the next morning that the massive sewage backup in the senator's house hit the news station in their hotel room.


	2. Amora's Visit

After Amora's visit, some leftover enchantment left all the clothes in Loki's castle different shades of purple. Natasha complained loudly and for hours, ranting up and down the stairs with shirts, socks, even diapers in her hands.

"Just look at this!" She thrust one of her favourite corsets under Loki's nose. "It's violet!"

He snickered. "It might look quite fetching, my love. I mean, against your skin…"

His comment was cut off by a long scream. Natasha dug a hand into the closet and pulled out her catsuit. "I'm not Black Widow any longer – I'm Turquoise Widow!" It didn't help her mood when Loki fell on the bed, gasping with laughter.

Later he found the situation lost its humour when he realized his underwear had all been dyed pale pink.


	3. Daughter

Natasha was on a mission to get her armour and weapons ready for a long day of training with Sif. She marched down the corridor of the castle, ready to sharpen her sword.

A bedroom door crashed open and the little girl shot out, wrapped her arms around Natasha's waist, and clung on tightly. "I have to be ready in ten minutes, love," Natasha said.

"No. Stay. Play."

Natasha sighed, hugged her daughter, and then, when she didn't budge, tried to unclasp the fat little hands locked tightly around her hips. The girl began to chuckle at the game: a hoarse Heh Heh Heh.

Instantly Loki appeared in the door, laughing so hard he had to hold onto the pillar framing the space. A wicked glint appeared in his eyes, and his tongue peeked out from between his teeth.

"I'm going to be late – it's not funny!" Natasha struggled to free herself.

"Dad thinks it is," the girl said.

"Dad thinks _everything_  is funny," Natasha said in exasperation.


	4. Sleipnir

Steve leapt up from his seat as the eight-legged horse ran past the window. "Holy cow!" he shouted. "Did you see that?"

"Hmm?" Sif looked up from the sheaf of battle plans she was studying and peered out through the glass. "Do you mean Sleipnir? That is the son of Loki."

Steve's face turned bright red. "Loki's  _son,_  did you say?" His voice turned into a squawk.

"Oh, yes. Well, not by Natasha, of course, but when he was young, he had to distract a stallion by the name of Svaðilfari in order to save Valhalla and Freya's virtue, not to mention the sun and the moon – well, it is a long tale. The upshot was that he turned himself into a mare, was caught by the stallion, and there is the result running outside the window."

"Huh." Steve put one hand on his chin. "I can't say I've ever heard anything like that before, ma'am."

Sif snorted. "Sleipnir is nothing compared to Jorgmunsdir."

He turned quickly away from the window and put out a hand for the battle plans. "Just give me some work to do. I don't even want to know."


	5. Haircut

"It's really time to get your hair cut." Natasha moved a long strand of black hair from the pillow where she had sat her elbow on it, causing Loki to yelp in protest.

"I told you, it is an expression of my freedom and spirit."

She poked him in the side with her finger, the one spot that always made him ticklish. "Yes, yes. But when I find your freedom all over the sheets after a long night of mischief, and when your spirit actually gets caught in your pajama drawer – don't try to deny it, I saw you this morning – and when freedom and spirit stops up the bath drain, then it is time to call the Royal Barber. Or Aesir Beauty Shoppe. Or whatever. How  _do_  you cut your hair in Asgard, anyway?"

"But, darling," Loki said in a silky voice, "there are many creative things I can do with it, you know. For example…"

"Oh. Huh. Hm." Natasha sucked in her breath as he moved over her. "Okay. Maybe – next week."


	6. Baby

When the baby was finally born, Loki surged in to see Natasha but was stopped by the nurse. "Don't you want to see your new daughter first?"

Before he could resist, a cloth-wrapped bundle was pressed into his arms. Holding the baby at arm's length, Loki looked at the child. Her face was as red as a tomato, and her mouth opened up for a long, loud howl. "Are you certain she's quite all right? Do all babies look like this?" He was appalled.

The nurse narrowed her eyes at him. "This is a perfectly healthy child," she insisted.

From the bed, Natasha laughed weakly. "I'm told they get cute later on."

"Oh." Loki quickly handed the bundle back to the nurse as the baby's cries reached ear-splitting level. "And do they always make so much noise?"

"That never ends," the nurse retorted smugly.


	7. Laugh (Baby 2)

Natasha had left him with strict instructions to stay close by the nursery. "I'll be back in an hour," she insisted.

"Do you really have to go?" Loki asked. It was the first time he had been left alone with the baby. It wasn't that he was nervous, it was just that the child existed as a sort of amorphous concept in his mind. He and Natasha had one, it existed, and sometimes he poked at it with one finger. Plus he got to show it off in the Palace.

"You'll be fine." She gave him a deep kiss and ran down the stairs.

Feet dragging, Loki wandered into the nursery. The little girl lay in her crib, and with a start he saw her eyes were fixed on him with an unblinking stare. "Ah. Um. Hello." He didn't know what else to say.

There was no response, naturally, and Loki fingered his collar. Suddenly an hour seemed like an eternity, even to a demigod with a 5000 year lifespan.

He felt desperate; probably it would be bad if he just stalked out of the room, he thought. Still, the child's unnerving stare terrified him more than the thought of a Chitauri invasion. As a last resort, feeling very silly, he picked up a pink stuffed kitten from the crib and waggled it. The baby watched, and out of nowhere a pair of dimples appeared around her mouth. Suddenly she broke into a long peal of laughter.

Loki was delighted. "Is this funny? What if I do this?" He made the kitten float float in the air, pretended to try and catch it.

That made her laugh even harder, and he began to chuckle himself.

* * *

By the time Natasha returned, Loki and the baby were passed out on their massive bed: the tiny girl lay on his chest, and his long fingers cradled the little head under his neck.

Quietly she lay on the bed next to them, careful not to disturb their slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE - I'll never forget the first time my kid belly-laughed, so I wanted to give Loki a moment like that.


	8. Roller Coaster

Loki was in a huff as he climbed into the roller coaster car. He kept up a running series of complaints, causing several other riders to crane their necks and have a look.

"Get over yourself – it'll be fun," Natasha said.

He rolled his eyes as the restraints were placed over their shoulders. "This is too reminiscent of my past to be  _fun_ ," he growled.

After the second big drop Loki figured out the physics behind the entire ride. He was prepared for the oncoming turn and maneuvered himself so when Natasha fell against him, he was able to use it to his advantage. Their restraints disappeared and he captured her in a hungry kiss, both the speed and what their bodies were doing making them breathless.

"I knew you'd figure it out," Natasha whispered as the car slowed. "Why do you think I wanted to sit in the back?"

"Let us go again," Loki demanded.


	9. Shield

"I do not understand." Sif banged Steve's weapon with her fist. "You hold a shield, and yet you wield no sword. What use is that? I could dispatch you with one thrust!"

"Begging your pardon, but I would like to see you try." Steve nodded at her with respect, but his lips were firm with grim purpose.

A sparkle appeared in her eyes. "Very well! At last – I was completely bored of maps and plans."

* * *

On the field they sparred for an hour before Sif declared, "But this is all defense on your part! How would you attack me?"

"Actually, I wouldn't attack  _you_  at all. Others, however…" Steve's gaze never left her face as he flung his shield at the nearby Volstagg, who managed to save himself at the last minute by casting his vast body on the ground while the disc whistled overhead.

Sif put her hands on her hips and indulged in a long bout of hearty laughter. "Not bad at all!" She touched the shield after Steve caught it. "What is this made of?"

"Adamantium, Vibranium, and I don't know the other component. No one does. It's been remade several times, but I always go back to the original casting - it just works best for me."

"Hm." Sif nudged his shoulder with hers. "What say you to a jug of mead in the tavern with me and the Warriors?"

"I don't drink, ma'am."

She snorted. "Of course not. Come on, perhaps they have milk there as well. And by the roots of Yggdrasil, call me Sif."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all the readers out there. You are amazing!


	10. Pole Dance

"Thor's wedding is next week," Natasha remarked.

"Yes, what of it?" Loki's tone was cool.

"Aren't you going to take him out for a bachelor party or something? Show him a good time? On earth the guys usually take their buddies out, get them loaded, go leer at pole dancers."

"Pole dancers!" Loki was astonished. "Why in Hel would I want to do that? I was forced to sit through such dances when I was young, and I never want to repeat the experience."

"You don't?" Natasha frowned. "Wow, they must have been pretty lame."

"Pole dancing is always 'lame', as you say. A group of youngsters…"

"Youngsters!" She was shocked. "How young are we talking here? In Midgard time, I mean."

"Hm." He considered. "Eleven or twelve, maybe."

"Loki, that's disgusting! That's like pedophilia!"

"No, it is not."

"Yes, it is! How can you say such a thing?" Natasha was seriously worried. Had she made a huge mistake marrying someone who could think that?

"But it is so  _boring._  The girls hold ribbons and twirl around each other, always the same, and the music is dire." Loki made a sound of disgust.

"Wait a minute." Natasha's face cleared. "I think you and I are talking about very different kinds of dancing."

"Well, what are  _you_  talking about?"

She winked at him. "Tell you what. Set up a secure pole from floor to ceiling in our bedroom and I'll show you."

* * *

Later, as Loki watched her fly around the pole upside-down in a tight, silver costume revealing a lot of skin, he began to understand. "This is what you meant, darling?" he purred. "I like it."

Natasha landed with lithe, twisting cartwheel and strolled to the bed. He lay among the pillows, eyes never leaving hers, a lusty grin spreading his lips. "Yes, but Thor isn't going to watch," she insisted. "This is a  _private_  performance."

Loki sucked in his breath. "Yes. By the Norns, it is."


	11. Presents

For their daughter's birthday, Natasha insisted on a five-present limit. "We don't want her to get spoiled," she said.

"Five! But that is nothing. I planned to give her a pony, and a shelf filled with books, and a set of magical fighting soldiers, and fantasy paints. And those are just the start. What of dresses, toys, pets, jewels, and a voyage?" Loki folded his arms and tilted his head back.

Natasha felt her head whirl. "Hang on. There's so much wrong with what you just said I don't even know where to start. First, what are fantasy paints?"

"Oh, nothing much really. Whatever she paints with them comes alive for a few hours."

"So we have paint splotches chasing each other all over the castle?" She felt her hands curl into fists.

"Exactly! It was a great deal of fun when I was a boy." Loki chuckled at the memory.

"And what about this voyage deal?"

"On her own flying longship, of course." He drew Natasha close to kiss her neck.

"Oh, no. Don't think you're getting to me that way. I'll say Yes to the magical fighting soldiers and the books, and maybe the pony. And if you both actually behave for a few hours, I'll agree to the paints. But we will certainly not hand out a flying ship to a kid about to turn seven."

Loki's teeth nibbled her earlobe. "Very well, darling. How about just a trip on a flying longboat? With her responsible parents, of course?"

Natasha humphed. "Responsible parents? If you run into any, send them in to me so I can say Hello."

"Yes, yes. I suppose the waterfall pool and exploding slides are out of the question then?"

"You suppose correctly." Natasha slid her arms around his neck. "And close the door if you're going to keep that up."


	12. Mischief, Part 1

Complicated charts, books, notes and illustrations were tacked up all over the study. Natasha, walking by with a large bundle of scrolls, saw a map of the nine realms pinned to one wall with several arrows and questions attached, as well as a brass clockwork replica of the Asgardian universe ticking away in one corner.

She stopped, realizing at once that Loki was up to something. No wonder he kept disappearing to that room after meals, locking himself in for hours! If he was going to attempt a takeover of another realm, she would smack him upside the head into next week…

"See something interesting?" His cool voice was right in her ear.

Natasha sighed. "There aren't many people who can  _yadda yadda yadda_." Looking up in Loki's annoyed glance, she added, "It's your business, and I didn't mean to pry. The door was open and I couldn't help seeing the map and all the other stuff. But if you attempt any mischief, you know I am going to break my foot off in your ass."

"I know. It's nothing too horrible, darling, trust me." Loki smoothed a curl off her forehead. "Where were you doing with those scrolls? Anything interesting?"

* * *

That night he took her as if it were their last time together. She knew something was up – Natasha could feel it in the way his gaze never left hers, his arms locked around her at the end, holding her as tightly as though she would fade away into nothing.

She sighed. Eventually he would tell her, and until that moment she would simply have to wait.


	13. Cat

It was incredible. As soon as Loki got comfortable with book in hand, drink at elbow, feet propped up on a comfortable ottoman, the cat came sliming into the room and hopped up on his lap. With a long, loud purr and a few Mrowrrs, Blot curled up in a small, furry button exactly where Loki intended to prop his book.

"Natasha!" he shouted.

Silence greeted his cry for help, and he realized with a surge of fury she was probably out of the castle. It was the reason he had a free hour to read in the first place.

Loki tried to wriggle around, to make his lap as uncomfortable as possible for the creature. Blot merely purred louder and began to knead Loki's legs with paws that felt as though they were filled with fishhooks.

How could he forget his enchantments? With a smirk, Loki elevated Blot. The cat hung in the air, seemingly surprised for a moment before taking it for granted with a sort of feline shrug. It started to wash its paws suspended in space.

Loki found a flat pillow embroidered with a rampant bilgesnipe and covered his lap before lowering the cat.  _Now,_  he thought triumphantly. He had his book, his drink, and armour against the fluffy intruder. All was peaceful and happy.

It lasted for two minutes until his two-year-old daughter came in and demanded to get up on his lap as well.


	14. Awkward

"Come here. Look at this." Loki beckoned to Natasha from where he stood hidden behind a curtain, overlooking a long gallery below.

There Sif and Steve were seated at a table filled with lists of armour and battle plans. Natasha could just make out the phrase  _Need Several Kelterweight of Throg Cannon_  written on one page in florid script – probably the work of Fandral.

"What of it?" she whispered.

"Just watch." Loki grinned.

Sif bent over the long list, and Steve looked up at her. There was longing in his glance as he regarded the beautiful warrior; when she raised her head, however, he quickly ducked over a longship inventory and pursed his lips with false fascination.

"Do you think they …?" Natasha whispered in Loki's ear.

"Wait. It gets better."

Sif, in her turn, watched Steve's face reading his list and extended her hand towards his. As he spoke she twitched it back and pretended to frown at what he said.

Natasha bore Loki away before he would explode with pent-up humour. "Gods, darling!" he gasped. "Were we ever that awkward and foolish?"

She gave him her secret smile and tickled his side. "Throg Cannon," she giggled.

Loki fell off the bed with laughter.


	15. The Mysterious Spell

"Loki, could I have some rock salt, please?" Natasha held out her hand.

"What do you need it for?" He gave her a small bag with the crystals, wondering what his wife was up to now.

"And some ice?" Her eyes danced with her own mischief.

"Hmmmm. Are you working some magic?"

"Perhaps I am. Also I need a mechanism with a crankshaft to turn an amount of fluid within a large container."

Loki's curiosity was thoroughly peaked. "Darling, what are you up to? And I'll need a sketch for that last request."

She quickly drew what she needed and handed him the parchment. "You'll find out, but don't you dare try to follow and spy on me in the meantime."

"Of course not!" he replied in his most shocked, virtuous voice.

* * *

After counting to  _tuttugo ok ein_ , Loki slipped out of the castle to go after her. Natasha went to a small farm nearby and paid for a pre-arranged sale; he could see the woman grin with pleasure at the amount of gold his wife handed over. Quickly he hid behind a tree as Natasha remounted her saddle.

"I see you there," she called out. "You're pathetic, by the way."

"I merely went for a walk," Loki declared with as much dignity as he could muster, coming round from behind the tree. "But will you not tell me what this mysterious spell is? You have captured my interest, love."

"Nope. And you can just make your way home by yourself." With a swirl of her cape, Natasha's mare reared and they galloped off. He couldn't help admiring her slim, upright form.

* * *

Over drinks, dinner, and a long story about some battle called The Second World War from the Steve fellow, Loki kept wondering about his wife's behaviour. Not one to be patient, he was just about to demand she come to a nearby room so he could kiss the secret out of her, when dessert was brought in.

"Is that ice cream?" Steve asked. "I haven't had it since I arrived here." He turned to Sif at his side and added, "Give this a try – it's classic American vanilla."

"Ice cream." Loki looked at his dish suspiciously. "Is this what you were so busy doing today, Natasha?"

"I wanted to be certain it would work before I told you," she smiled.

"Humph, Midgard food." Sif took a tiny taste; her face filled with amazement and she began to shovel it in. "Baldur's Balls! This is the tastiest dish I have ever eaten in my nine hundred years as a warrior!"

Loki sniffed. After Natasha's deception, he wanted to  _not_  like the dessert. However, it smelled rather good – one sample told him Sif was right, and he followed her example, spooning the stuff into his mouth as quickly as he could.

"More," their daughter demanded, holding out her hands like little starfish. "Dada, want more."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to samdram1 for the most wonderful inspiration - I can't stop thinking about your ideas!


	16. Jane

“Next I want to investigate the anomaly within The Cavern of Time,” Jane declared.

Loki and Thor exchanged a grim look. “Be very careful,” Loki advised. “As one who has gone right through the cavern to the ages beyond, I can state it is an extremely dangerous place.”

“I know, right?” The scientist’s eyes sparkled, and she leaned forward. “I never heard that entire story. You had to win Natasha back in nine ages to get her to…” She covered her mouth and yawned. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Lately I’m so sleepy all the time, and I can’t keep my eyes open after dinner.”

“Really?” Natasha leaned closer and whispered something in Jane’s ear.

“Oh, here we go,” Loki said with disgust. “In Midgard this is called Girl Talk, brother, and we will not discover what they say about us unless we torture them.”

“It’s not about you. Well, not about both of you,” Natasha protested.

Sif entered the room and cast a scathing glance at the brothers. Her eyes brightened when she saw Natasha and Jane, both beckoning to her. “Behold – it gets worse,” Loki said as the warrior joined the two other women.

* * *

 That night, in Loki’s arms, Natasha whispered her suspicions to him. “Is this true?” he asked.

“She hasn’t visited the healers yet, but if I’m anything to go by it’s the real deal.”

“Hm.” He nuzzled her neck before venturing, “I suppose it is a good thing.”

“Of course it is! Our daughter will have a friend. The two of them can go on long, muddy expeditions and get into huge amounts of trouble together.” Natasha nestled even closer to him; her eyes began to close. It was very cosy and warm in the large bed.

“It will be like us when we were boys,” he whispered. “Me and Thor.”

“Exactly.”

“ _You_ are not sleepy, are you? Anything else you want to tell me?" Loki smiled into her eyes.

“No, but I suppose there's no harm in trying.”


	17. Mischief, Part 2

"It's time you told me what's in that complex mind of yours." Natasha raised one eyebrow and tilted her head back to capture Loki's glance. He turned away to look out of the window, and she took his chin in her hands. "No, this isn't when you spin me a long silver tale about honour and glorious purpose. Tell me what the hell you are planning, and I want the truth this time."

There was a long silence, punctuated by the soft babbling of their daughter talking to herself as she arranged the set of mechanical soldiers on the nursery floor down the hall in one of her unending battles. "I just never got to say I was sorry," Loki admitted at last.

Natasha dropped her hand. "And so you thought you would ride off to Valhalla, is that it? Do some ridiculous stunt and get broasted in Helheim for another age, while we are left behind to mourn you here? Well, I am not having it, Loki, and if you dare consider…"

He stopped her by wrapping his fingers over her mouth. "It is not Valhalla. She is somewhere much more mysterious, much more difficult to find."

"Fólkvangr?" Natasha guessed.

Loki jerked his head back. "Yes. How did you know?"

"I'm not a total dunce when it comes to geography here in Asgard, and I do read my scrolls. My immediate thought when – when it happened - was she would go there. But I know nothing about the place."

"I do not know that much myself. No one does." Loki let her go and turned away. "I would be lying if I said I was not planning anything. But I would not attempt anything too foolish – at least, I do not think I would."

Natasha came very close to him and stood on tiptoe. "That little girl needs a father," she whispered fiercely. "If you think I will let you go without me, you are indeed foolish and beyond help. Whatever you are planning, I am part of it."

"She needs a mother as well. What if she lost us both?" Perhaps it was the thought that made him drop to his knees, wind his arms around her, hide his face in Natasha's waist.

"Babe, we defeated an Elder god, a really nasty troll witch twice, and rescued each other from the nine ages. I think we'll be okay – as long as we work together and you stop this nonsense now. Also, you must promise me the idea is to get a message through to Fólkvangr, nothing more. No kidnapping, no onslaught, no wars…"

Loki looked up. Natasha loved that view of him – hair streaming back from his face, eyes filled with passion, arms upheld as though he were reaching for something. "I promise," he vowed.

She nodded. "Well, alrighty then. Let's get started."


	18. Sif

"Stupid, inconsiderate, clumsy dunce!" Sif swept into the study where Natasha sat writing a letter to Clint.

"What has Loki done now?" Natasha narrowed her eyes, preparing for a long battle.

"Believe it or not, this time I am angry at that Captain. That American." Sif followed her pronouncement with a pent-up howl of rage.

"Steve?" Natasha couldn't help chuckling. "How has the poor man angered you?"

Sif flung out one arm at the window. "He dared to pick up my weapons for me! And carry them! As though I were some wilting lily…"

"…And not the finest warrior in the Nine Realms. Yes, I see – quite dreadful." Natasha sealed her letter with wax and put it to one side.

Somewhat mollified, Sif perched on the edge of a chair and tapped her fingers on her armoured knee. "I told him in no uncertain terms to leave my sword and shield alone, and he said it was only polite, that no gentleman would allow a Lady to carry such a huge load." She followed this with a long snort.

"No one snorts like you, Sif," Natasha said. "Do you think you were a dragon in a past life? But listen." She thought it was time to put things straight. "Steve comes from a different age – a past era. Back then it was extremely important for someone like him to adhere to a certain code of chivalry, you might say. He wanted to be a soldier so desperately he went through a long series of physical modifications – he changed his own body so he could fight. You can understand that, can't you?"

Sif's eyes flashed, but she nodded slightly. "I suppose. But to dare…!"

"And," Natasha continued relentlessly, "that code he fought for is extremely important to him. Especially when he has feelings for the lady in question." She raised her eyebrows and looked pointedly at Sif.

The warrior jumped slightly. "Feelings! What do you – do you mean – I shall skewer him – to think he would – when did I …" She stopped and her cheeks grew pink. "Do you really think so?" she asked in a milder tone.

"Uh, yeah." Natasha grinned and pointed to the door. "Now go and get your man."


	19. The Orchestra of Mice

"You are being so thick-headed right now!" Natasha fumed.

Loki gritted his teeth, obviously trying not to smash every object in sight. " At least  _I_ am not shouting like a bilgesnipe in heat!" he yelled.

Her jaw dropped open. "Oh, no you didn't," she said in a deadly tone. "And besides, you're louder than I was."

"No, I was not."

"Yes, you were. I don't know why I put up with you to be honest." She punctuated her statement with a strangled howl of fury and marched off to their dungeon rooms, hoping to hide in private for a few minutes.  _What an idiot!_  She wanted to smash his skull in. What had he ever done for her?

Natasha crashed into the bedroom and locked the door. She knew it wouldn't keep Loki out if he really wanted to come in, but it was satisfying to turn the key in the lock. There she found a bottle of mead, poured a hefty measure, and downed the wine in two gulps, making a face as she drank. The stuff was far too sweet for her.

The little orchestra of mice started to play a soft, sweet tune. She huffed, knowing they were probably controlled by Loki as an attempt to influence her into a better mood. She remembered the morning he gave them to her – while she slept he created a slew of presents to greet her when she woke. It had been Natasha's first real insight into Loki's artistic side – and what a vision it had been.

On tiptoe, she examined the little mouse orchestra. They were fat, furry little rodents, wearing 18th century style suits and tuning a variety of tiny instruments. Who came up with stuff like that?

With a long sigh, Natasha realized she was going to forgive her husband for his latest bout of pigheadedness. She found a scrap of parchment, wrote three words followed by her initial, and tied it up with a ribbon filched from one of her dresses.

She found him sulking in the dungeon library, slumped down in a chair so he was only visible by the long, leather-clad legs sticking out over the carpet. Natasha crept up, deposited the little packet in his lap, and ran back to the bedroom.

Her present must have affected Loki more deeply than she thought; after a moment he strode into the room and captured her in one corner.

* * *

A long time later, Loki murmured against her skin, "What caused such a sudden change of heart, darling?"

Natasha pointed to the mice. "Those. I realized anyone who could create such a wonderful thing can't be  _all_  bad."


	20. Take a Powder

Sif raised her chin as she neared the fields where she worked with Steve, teaching him swordplay and armour work. The mortal was good, she had to admit it, and his style had improved dramatically over the weeks. At that point she would be happy to fight alongside him in any battle: the highest compliment she could think of for anyone.

The warrior maiden had faced giants, dark elves, dwarves, even denizens from the realm of the Dead. All those adventures she had greeted with courage and a song in her heart as she clashed with the enemy, dispatching those who threatened her beloved Asgard. But now, about to encounter a mere Midgardian, her throat grew dry. Although she would never admit it, Sif felt ready to take to her heels and escape what lay before her.

Steve was there already, facing away from her, his shirt in the dust. As she approached he picked it up and wiped his face on it, before a sudden suspicion made him turn to see her there watching him.

"My apologies," he muttered as he slipped the disgusting garment on, stained with mud and sweat. Sif caught that look in his eye – the one that proclaimed true innocence but utter courage. She knew he would confront anything. In that they were completely alike.

She put her hands on her hips. "I just came to see your progress." Why did her heart flutter so? "In truth you do well, for a citizen of Midgard, of course."

"Midgard." Steve looked down, scraped at the dust with the butt of his lance. "Speaking of that, I have to take a powder."

"Take a powder?" A rush of hot temper overcame Sif at the ridiculous position she was in. "Enough of your meaningless words! Speak sense so I can understand what you say for once."

"It means I have to leave - I'm being recalled for a mission. I just wanted to stop in and say thanks for all your time and help while I was here."

His eyes captured hers, but Sif whirled to look out into the distance where the river cut through the forest in front of Loki's castle. "Naturally. I would do it for anyone who might fight with me for my realm in the future." It came out far colder than she intended.

"Okay." There was a long pause, and Sif determined to drink mead that evening until she fell into a ditch somewhere.  _Was he gone?_  She refused to turn and see. Then the soft breath right by her ear, and a hushed, "Thank you for being the best teacher it has been my privilege to encounter."

A quick brush of firm lips against her cheek.

His footsteps, filled with purpose, taking the path away from her.

Silence, surging back into the valley.


	21. Mischief, Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE - Again, the ficlets headed with Mischief hint at slight Thor 2 spoilers. Please avoid if you haven't seen The Dark World yet.

 "We need to narrow down our choices," Natasha insisted. "You can't simply wander throughout the Nine Realms looking for Fólkvangr."

"Why not?" Loki folded his arms.

"Because of Brynhildr." She raised her chin, ready to be just as stubborn as he was.

Blot stretched and purred. Several doors down, Brynhildr read a few lines of her story aloud, her voice curiously deep for a six-year-old. "Very well," he agreed at last.

Natasha felt a rush of relief, but she didn't betray it. "Asgard, Varinheim, Jotunheim are out. Nastrond and Alfheim are too close and well-mapped. And it's nowhere near Hel nor Valhalla, am I correct?"

Loki came up behind her, wound a long arm around her waist, and stared intently at the charts on the desk. "You are. I would hazard Thryheim, Ringsfjord, and Hindi are good places to start. Skornheim would be the next choice."

Natasha turned within the circle of his embrace to ask, "What message are you going to send – if we ever find the place?"

He buried his head in her neck to murmur, "I just want to say that I was wrong. That my answer was, 'You are' instead of 'You are not.'"


	22. Fever

Despite his mighty stamina and godly physique, Loki came down with a high fever after a long hunting trip in the mountains. By the time he returned to the castle, he was babbling about dark visions and tree nymphs.

Natasha, caught in the act of cleaning her weapons, took one look at him and sent him to bed. He complained loudly, but she pushed him between the sheets, somehow got him into clean and dry pajamas, and went off to order a large cauldron of soup.

Before she could reach the kitchens, however, he called her back.  _"Natasha!"_

She ran back to the room, fearing he was about to invoke a feverish spell or, worse, upchuck on the blankets. "What is it, Loki?" she asked.

"Come here," he demanded, holding out both arms. "I do not want you to leave me. I want you to stay."

"For heaven's sake," she sighed. "I just want to fetch you some soup – whoops! Woah!"

Already he had drawn her to his side with his magic until she was dragged across the blankets to lie beside him. There he pinned her down with both arms and one leg, pillowed his head on her shoulder, and went right to sleep.

"Crap." Natasha tried to edge away once he began to snore slightly, but somehow Loki sensed her escape attempt and held on more tightly.

Using her extreme flexibility she was able to reach the bell beside the bed and ring for a maid. An instant later the door opened. "Yes?" the girl asked.

"Sorry to disturb you, Astrid," Natasha said. "Could you please have some soup brought up?" She eyed Loki, who looked like he wouldn't move for the next twelve hours. "Bring me some books as well.  _And_  my sketchpad."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE - This came from a Tumblr prompt - Loki would probably be needy and clingy if he ever got sick. I imagined it with a Blackfrost slant, of course.


	23. Mischief, Part 4 (Thryheim)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder that the Blackfrost Moments headed Mischief include slight spoilers for Thor 2 TDW.

**Mischief 4 (Thryheim)**

* * *

"Queen Ula of Thyheim kidnapped me once," Loki stated mildly, looking out over the Sea of Fear. Beside them, the huge, stone Hive squatted under an unmerciful sun.

"And you deserved it, I'm sure," Natasha retorted. He twinkled at her but didn't volunteer any further information, and finally she burst out, "All right. What happened?"

"I poisoned her Flying Trolls."

"Oh, right - that was my next guess. Honestly, is it any wonder I wouldn't let you out of my sight on this little jaunt?"

"Very clever, darling," he drawled. "I do hope we get to see Queen Ula, speaking of her – just wait until you take in her headgear."

"Why?" Natasha was suspicious. "Is her beauty beyond all compare? Does she lure men to their deaths?"

"Now you are simply being silly." Loki snorted.

"Pardon me. Well, back to serious matters such as Flying Trolls." She prodded him with the butt of her sword.

He was about to retort, when a massive door opened in the side of the Hive and a voice was heard. "Why do you dare to travel here?"

Loki strode forward. "We seek Fólkvangr. Is the plain hence?"

A tall woman, wearing a huge helmet that covered her face like the carapace of an insect emerged, flanked by what looked like hundreds of red trolls. "Loptr," she said in a toneless voice. "We remember you, and with no great kindness."

"Queen Ula," Natasha said, pushing forward. "Here, we brought you a little something." She withdrew a packet from her saddlebags and, deciding that any woman who wore such get-up would like a lot of showmanship, launched the gift forward towards Loki.

He caught it in one fist and handed it to the queen, who sniffed. "Jewels? I have no need of…"

"Royal jelly," Natasha interrupted, "begging Your Majesty's pardon. The really good stuff. All we ask is any information you may have about Fólkvangr."

Queen Ula inclined her head and accepted the gift. "Very well. All I know is it has something to do with talismans."

Loki bowed and, eyeing the Flying Trolls cautiously, rejoined Natasha. As they rode off she said in a low voice, "That doesn't tell us very much."

"No, but we are lucky to escape with our heads."

"Hm. Huh. Okay, good to know. And, if you ever feel the need to buy me one of those Ula hats, you just suppress that urge."


	24. Sif's Shield

**Shield**

* * *

 

When Natasha arrived with her sword in hand, Sif was already shouting at Hogun. "Get off my field!" She punctuated the decree with several warm curses and a slashing blow at the warrior's buttocks.

"Hey, hang on." Natasha said. "What has he done that is so dreadful?"

In a fury, Sif rounded on her. "And why are you interfering? By the gods, I have had it up with well-meaning, clumsy fools who cannot wield a spear if their lives depend on it!" She went on like that for several minutes, during which time Hogun sidled off and took to his heels when he was far enough away.

Natasha merely listened patiently, her arms folded and head tilted. At length Sif ran out of steam and flicked her eyes up and down. "And what are you looking at?" she demanded.

"Someone who's so unhappy she insists on picking fights with every friend she has."

Sif opened her mouth to shout further, but at Natasha's straight look she stopped and slashed the turf at the feet. "I wish…" she began.

"I'm going to take a trip to Midgard," Natasha said suddenly. "You should come along."

Sif held up her shield as though she could ward off Natasha's words, but the Russian merely laughed and pushed it aside. "Come on," she insisted. "We'll go shopping, and I'll show you Stark Tower."

"Shopping? For what – shoes?"

"I was thinking weapons, but shoes are good too." Natasha grinned. Mentally, she prepared to tell Loki he had to come as well; later they could all go dancing.

Maybe Steve could join them.


	25. Nightmares

 

The flames licked at Loki’s skin, making him arch with agony and scream without words. For anyone it would have been supreme torture, but for him – the son of a frost giant – it was worse than anything he could have imagined.

And through it all there was a voice, promising him an army, glory, relief from the pain, if only he surrendered his foolish ideas of freedom and loyalty to Asgard. “Why should you be loyal to the Aesir?” the whisper teased relentlessly as his eyes boiled in his skull. “They lied to you. They dishonored you. Claim fealty to me and end the fire…” 

* * *

 

He sat up in bed, gasping with horror. For a moment he thought he was back in Helheim, about to cleave his soul to The Other and to Thanos. Loki’s vision slowly cleared, and he felt the soft breathing of Natasha asleep next to him.

The pain of that history clung to him, and he realized he would have to wake her, to be weak in order to get some comfort. Just as he was about to shake her, however, the door to the bedroom opened.

Brynhildr stood there with tumbled curls, looking confused. She made tiny, sad noises, and at the sound Natasha awoke.

“What is it, love?” she asked, holding out her arms.

Brynhildr ran forward, jumped into the bed between her parents, and snuffled into Loki’s shoulder. “Had a bad dream. Want to sleep here.”

Slowly, Loki felt his body relax as he put his arms around the girl. “Of course you may, dear one.”

The girl stopped crying and fell asleep with the suddenness of childhood. On the other side, Natasha hugged Brynhildr as well; Loki stroked his wife’s satin skin next to his. The bed was warm, holding the little family in the dark.

“Love you…” Natasha breathed before she, too, fell asleep.

Loki was touched. She never said anything about her feelings for him. He had lost the battle of Midgard, and at the time he railed at the tyranny of the fates. Now he saw the victory had been a different sort, one far more glorious and much slower to arrive.

His eyes closed. The nightmare was gone.


	26. Return

Natasha's fieldwork took longer than she expected, and her return to Asgard was delayed by a week. As she rode back to Loki's castle, she knew he would be brewing with bad temper; she couldn't remember the last time they had been separated for so long. Of course she sent messages whenever she could via Heimdall, but Loki would seize the chance to have a mighty tantrum.

As she entered his study, she lifted her chin. Natasha refused to be intimidated by his rages.

Every line of Loki's body sang with anger. He turned from the fireplace to face her, and his instant look of relief was instantly replaced with one of cold fury. "Well, madam?" were his first words.

Actually, it was exhilarating to have that much power over such a fitful being as her husband. "Madam, huh? Wow. It's that bad?"

"Yes, it is."

He turned away from her, but she knew her part. She would play it to the hilt. "I don't know why you're so annoyed. I told you the case was complicated and could require my time for longer than …"

"Annoyed!" Loki flung the cup he was holding to the corner, where it shattered. "Annoyed? This is not some missing book or blot on my writing! My wife was nowhere to be found for days! When was the last time you were gone for so long? And do you know what I thought? That you were dead, hurt, kidnapped, gone from me forever? And do you further know, madam, what my life is when you are not here? A return to darkness, solitude, without any light or friendship?"

He stopped, panting with emotion. Natasha felt her jaw drop. She had expected a tirade but not with quite that amount of passion; perhaps she had started to take Loki for granted after years of marriage.

"It doesn't matter if I'm here or not – we are always together where it counts." She dared to put one hand on his sleeve; that he didn't fling it off showed he had worn off the worst of his ire. "But I am sorry it took so long. And couldn't you go hunting with Thor or Steve while I was away?"

"Thor! Steve!" Loki gaped at her with astonishment. "I daresay, but I cannot do  _this."_  He crushed her to his chest, kissed her with impetuous lips, bit her neck and earlobes.

Natasha hid a grin in his long, black hair. The worst was over, and now all she had to do was remind him how very much she had missed him as well.


	27. Food

"I want to go to San Diego," Natasha announced. "I want margaritas and food."

"Food? You can have food here." Loki spoke from the depths of a comfortable chair; he was in the middle of an interesting chapter and didn't want to move.

"Not the kind of food I want."

"Ugh, food on Midgard is dreadful. Did you ever pick up a box in one of those stores of grocery and look at the side? I have no idea what some of the words even mean."

Natasha climbed onto his lap. "Hello - have you  _met_ bilgesnipe? It's like eating fishy steak."

Loki put down his book. "I will concede that point, but on all other matters…"

"Enough." She leaned forward and kissed him. "We're going. Tonight."

* * *

In the restaurant, Natasha ordered margaritas with fresh lime juice, taquitos, mole sauce, and appetizers. As soon as their drinks arrived she took a long sip and sighed with pleasure.

Tony, who had flown in to join them, chugged his margarita and ordered another round. "With floaters," he called after the waitress. "Not floater floaters," he added. "I mean the kind that are made with heavily proofed alcohol. Karp, you're not eating anything."

"Why'd you call him Karp?" Natasha asked around a mouthful of nachos.

"David Karp," Loki explained glumly. "The man who started…"

"…Tumblr, okay, I get it." Natasha picked up another nacho and dunked it heavily in guacamole. "Here, try this. And if you don't like guacamole we may need to get a divorce."

Loki eyed the chip with suspicion. "At least it's the right color." He took a tiny lick of the green stuff, and a pleased expression came over his face before he swallowed the chip and began to ladle guacamole onto his plate.

"You're not supposed to eat it with a spoon," Natasha started, but Tony shushed her.

"No, let him go." He swiped something on his phone and spoke into it. "Pepper? I'm going to be later than I thought. There's something interesting going on here I want to watch." When the waitress brought their drinks, Tony ordered three more bowls of guacamole and a bottle of the finest tequila.

Natasha leaned her chin on her fist and watched Loki eat with awe. "This is a thing of beauty," she commented.

"So no divorce then?" Tony drained his margarita and poured a round of shots. "Damn. I thought I was going to win that bet with Bruce after all."


	28. What the Maid Saw

**28 What the Maid Saw**

* * *

Dagbjört sadly admitted her Lady and the dark prince were in the middle of another argument. Usually they couldn't keep their hands off each other: the two stroked each other's legs under the table, linked hands, sat so close together by the fireside their bodies blended into one shadow.

 _I saw them together here last week,_  Dagbjört thought as she carried a tray of tea things to the nursery. That night the maid spied Prince Loki backing the Lady Natasha into a corner; his long hands flattened against the wall to hold his wife in place as he bent to kiss her throat. At the sight, Dagbjört backed away and told the cook to cancel dinner… again.

But now the lord of the castle skulked in his study while Lady Natasha sat with their daughter, wiping her over-bright eyes with the backs of her hands when she thought no one was looking.

It was the fifth day they had been thus.

The maid put down the tray, left her mistress, and went downstairs. Her heart lay heavy in her chest. Dagbjört loved her lady dearly; Natasha always spoke softly and was firm but fair. Who could not adore such a beautiful, courageous mistress? Nearly a year ago she discovered Dagbjört's brother lost the use of his legs and doubled the maid's salary on the spot. She had a chair made for him with wheels so he could return to the fields. And each month a huge basket of food arrived at the house; there was no label, but the maid knew who sent it.

She paused at the door of the study. Prince Loki stood at the windows; as soon as Dagbjört entered he turned swiftly. "I did not call you. Return to your kitchens, child."

A sudden idea came into Dagbjört's head. "It's the Lady Natasha," she blurted out. "She asked that you meet her in the orchard an hour hence."

The prince twitched his brows together. "Did she? And was there a reason given?"

The maid shook her head. "None." She could hardly believe her own audacity. As soon as the prince dismissed her she ran to the mistress and gave an altered version of the message, hoping she wouldn't end in the stocks.

* * *

What occurred in the orchard, no one other than the master and mistress ever knew. But the following evening, Dagbjört entered the library and found them pressed together on the loveseat. Prince Loki's dark head was bent over Natasha's red one, and the maid could hear their heated sighs and soft whispers mingling in the atmosphere of parchment and old leather.

With a wide grin, she shut the door silently and danced back to the cook to tell her the news.


	29. Mischief, Part 5 (Hindi)

"Well, that was a bust." Natasha squinted against the sun, her mind still buzzing from the bright reds and yellows of the country called Hindi.

Loki slumped next to her. "Perhaps this is all ridiculous. I start to think you should return home and allow me to search on my own."

She darted a glance at him. If she protested he would instantly start to distance himself; instead she mused, "Talismans. What could that mean?"

He was about to take a bite of dried apple, but he removed the crescent from his lips. "Talismans! What does that have to do with anything?"

"It's what Ula said to us when we were at her Hive. Don't tell me you forgot."

Loki twiddled the dried apple between finger and thumb for a long time. At last he murmured, "Probably I could not hear over her hat."

Natasha had started to fall asleep in the sun, but at that she jolted upright. "Loki – did you just make a joke? A really _bad_ joke, I might add?"

The sight of his signature dimple as he struggled to hold back his laughter melted her heart – it had been a long time since she had seen it. In fact, during the entire quest the god of mischief had become solemn, almost grim.

He stood, walked over to Sleipnir, and fed the steed the limp piece of apple. Natasha rose and put her arms around him from behind, felt the strong muscles of his back as he stroked Sleipnir's nose. "So, talismans. Do you know what it means?" she asked.

Loki turned in the circle of her arms and pressed her head to his chest, cradling it there with his palm. "Yes," he said at last. "I know what it means."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to see what Ula looks like, you can find her and her headgear at the Marvel database here: 
> 
> http://marvel.wikia.com/New_Mutants_Vol_1_84


	30. Date

"Are you sure you don't want to go alone? I'll head back to the hotel."

Sif's response was to curl her hand tightly around Natasha's arm. "Do not dare abandon me. I have no idea how to talk when on one of these – what do you call it?"

"A date. You're on a date. And it should have been a double date…" Natasha said. Loki was wandering Asgard somewhere; as a result she had to go alone with Sif to meet Steve downtown for dinner and dancing.

"A date. Right." Sif grimaced as they entered the restaurant and were waved to a table where Steve waited; as soon as he saw them he stood and flashed an uncertain smile.

Sif stopped. "Urd's testicles – could we not just go and slash at each other with swords instead?"

"No." Natasha pushed her firmly to the table. "Hi!" she added in a bright voice.

"Ladies." Steve helped Sif into her chair. "I ordered wine, although I can't have any."

Natasha shook her head. She kept meaning to ask Loki to develop some sort of potion or magic to let Steve drink alcohol, but now it was too late. He lurched into an awkward story about the army and she tried not to roll her eyes. A few stiff belts would have really helped the evening along.

* * *

By the time they reached the dance club Sif wore a look of murder. The evening was not going well. "Steve," Natasha said in desperation, "take Sif on the floor, will you? Show her how to jitterbug."

"Do you think I really…" His words were cut off as Natasha pushed him and Sif forward to dance. At least it would give her time to down a shot.

Half a bottle of vodka later, Natasha realized Steve and Sif were doing okay. The warrior maiden smiled up in his eyes as he twirled her expertly, and he laughed as she added a step of her own.

Natasha snuck out before they could come looking for her.


	31. What Natasha Saw (Mischief 6)

"He wants me to meet him in the orchard? Are you certain?"

Dagbjört nodded. "Yes, that is what he said. In an hour."

Natasha nodded. "Very well. Will you send the governess in to sit with Brynhildr when you have a minute, please?"

* * *

As she neared the orchard, Natasha tried to tamp the simmering fury boiling in her bones. When she woke after the passage to Hindi, she found herself back in Loki's Castle. Alone. He had gone on without her to Ringsfjord or Skornheim, leaving her to wonder if she had been widowed for the second time.

And when Loki returned, he was silent and more solemn than ever. It was as though the person she married had entirely disappeared. After a bitter argument, they stopped speaking to each other altogether.

* * *

He stood under their apple tree, where in the spring she sat with his head in her lap. Natasha felt a prick of hope; perhaps he was ready to explain.

"You wished to speak with me?" he said as soon as she arrived.

"Oh." She felt her eyes widen with surprise. "Dagbjört told me you wanted to speak with me."

"What?" Obviously he was just as confused as she was.

"Loki," Natasha explained, "we've been set up. It seems others have noticed the – coldness – between us and wanted to help patch things up."

"Ah." He nodded, considering. "I will leave you then and bother you no longer."

She watched him go, heart breaking, before anger took over. Natasha ran after him, pulled him around and shouted, "It's not a  _bother,_  dumbass! You're my husband, in case you have forgotten. Get your act together and tell me what the …" His defeated expression stopped her, and gently she put her arms around him. "Loki, sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Just – you can come to me if you do want to talk or anything. I promise not to yell or punch you in the face. Not very hard, anyway."

His laugh sounded against her ear; for a moment she thought she imagined it. "I know, darling. I know." A sigh shuddered through him, and he added, "I am sorry I went on without you. But I had to face three sorcerers in Ringsfjord, and I could not put you into that danger."

She tightened her hold on him and with a surge of relief felt his arms go around her. At last she dared to ask, "Did you get the message through?"

There was no response, save for a nod. She didn't ask for details, and he didn't offer any.

* * *

However, that night he followed her into the bedroom. As moonlight wheeled past the window Loki and Natasha made love, whispering promises and vows in each other's arms.

His current bout of mischief, it seemed, was over.

**END**

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll post a new Blackfrost series set post-TDW, starting this week with Lithium. It's darker and 'angstier', so if you like that sort of thing I hope you'll come and check it out. However, if you haven't seen Thor 2 you'll need to wait to read it until you watch the movie.
> 
> Thanks to all who stopped by and read the Moments, and a special set of Loki hugs and kisses for those who left comments, kudos, and reviews. I really enjoyed writing the tiny oneshots about Loki and Natasha of Asgard.


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